


Who Let Loki Into Ikea?

by whatanauthorsgottado (centerpointwitch)



Category: Norse Religion & Lore
Genre: Gen, Hijinks & Shenanigans, IKEA
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-18
Updated: 2020-09-18
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:40:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26533744
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/centerpointwitch/pseuds/whatanauthorsgottado
Summary: Loki and Odin decide, in a fit of whimsy or some such, to enter an Ikea store. Shenanigans ensue, of course.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 7





	Who Let Loki Into Ikea?

**Author's Note:**

> I blame Ada.

“Loki, what are you doing?”

Loki put his hands behind his back, whipped around, and did his all-around best impression of a child pretending they weren’t just caught with their hand in the cookie jar. “Whatever do you mean?”

Odin raised a pointed eyebrow at the sign on the wall behind Loki. The sign had previously read “Exit”, with an arrow facing to the left; the arrow was now facing right, and the lettering read, “Bathrooms”.

Loki followed his gaze, and summoned up a fair imitation of a surprised expression. “What? Didn’t that just say “Exit”?”

Odin stared at Loki deadpan, not signifying that with a response.

Ten seconds passed…

Twenty…

A full thirty-two seconds went by before Loki finally gave up the ghost with a sigh. “Fine, I’ll change the sign back. Happy?”

“No. But that’s something.”

Loki waved a hand vaguely at the sign and it returned to normal. He then stalked off with a dramatic sigh and a none-too-quiet mutter about “crotchety old bastards”.

Odin sighed and followed, hoping that Loki would eventually wander by the food court.

Hopefully, they’d serve something that would make dealing with him easier. Or at least more palatable.

* * *

“What do you mean, you don’t serve mead?”

The cashier looked a little nonplussed and – to her credit – mostly apologetic.

“I’m sorry, sir. Ikea prides itself on being a family-friendly establishment, which means that no alcohol is allowed on the premises.”

_What kind of Scandinavian establishment doesn’t serve alcohol?_

“Very well,” he said. “I’ll have an order of Swedish meatballs, a box of Dryck Fläder, and a chocolate bar. Mörk.”

“Of… course, sir.”

Odin paid and took his meal to a free table, wondering to himself if it was really so odd to hear someone able to pronounce the product names, or if he was just imagining the cashier's confusion.

Just as he finished eating, he caught a glimpse of Loki out of the corner of his eye. The fool seemed to be attempting to sneak around a corner, probably to evade the security guard who appeared to be searching for someone.

Odin sighed, debated with himself for several seconds, then decided it wasn’t worth dealing with, and grabbed a nearby napkin and a pen from his pocket, doodling absently while he watched his troublesome compatriot.

_This should be interesting…_

* * *

Loki poked his head around the corner glanced left and right, and then darted across the aisle into the kitchen displays. Hopefully he could lose the guard on his tail in the maze of showrooms…

No such luck. Two minutes later, Loki had gotten himself lost, knocked over a wine bottle rack (empty of fragile bottles) in a narrowly successful distraction attempt, and attracted three more security guards to the chase.

He needed a new tactic.

Loki searched the walls and ceiling desperately for an out, but the only salvation he found was the exit sign, and he wasn’t nearly ready to end his day of Ikea shenanigans. Why, he’d only just started, really.

(Some would question the classification of switching various décor accents in the bathroom showrooms, changing a number of signs and three or four floor indicators, and switching the price signs on most of the clearance bins as “a start”, but Loki was nothing if not an overachiever.)

He ducked behind a shelf of flat-packed shelf kits as two of the guards on his trail rounded a corner, and then he spotted his sanctuary.

Loki entered the bathrooms a tall, spindly redheaded man, and left a tall, muscular woman with blonde hair and a grin to make any man weak at the knees.

Her disguise was perfect.

Unfortunately for her, Odin was the first face she met outside the bathrooms, and he didn’t look impressed.

Loki tried a smile, fluttering her eyelashes and clasping her hands in front of her, the perfect picture of innocence.

Odin just fixed her with a look, and she sighed.

“Fine, I’ll move it all back…”

“It’s all back to normal already. I already changed the signs.”

Loki's eye gained a devious glint, and Odin added, “Not a chance. We’re leaving.”

Loki scowled at him. Odin rolled his eye and started heading for the exit. “Come on, you’ve made enough work for the poor mortals already.”

“I like to think of it as adding entertainment to their dull little lives,” Loki argued as he fell into step with his brother. “After all, there’s nothing more soul-crushing than wage slavery…”


End file.
